Yes, yes, Buzzfeed is stupid and ruining everything, but did you know how stupid, and how much everything? You probably do, because you’re on Buzzfeed right now, aren’t you? Ho ho, The Top 5 Kickass Ad Stunts Of 2012 you say? That seems like a good use of our time.
As you won’t be surprised to learn, the internet’s rough beast of Babel is in the midst of repackaging their repackaged listicle content in a series of Best of 2012 year end repackaged listicles. We’ve repackaged the absolutely least essential ones of the sorry lot here into our own listicle, and rebranded with some suggested further reading content.
Who it’s for: Your mom, people who’ve purchased at least three inspirational calendars in the last quarter.
What it means: Life is cruel and indifferent and we’re distracted by glorious nothing on our way to death.
Further reading: “Dulce Et Decorum Est” by Wilfred Owen
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind…
Who it’s for: No one, this is for no one.
What it means: Nobody loves you.
Further reading: “He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven” by William Butler Yeats
HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Who it’s for: People who take their relative social standing on the AV Club message board very seriously.
What it means: We’re all going to die alone.
Further reading: “Death’s Echo” by W.H. Auden
“O who can ever gaze his fill,”
Farmer and fisherman say,
“On native shore and local hill,
Grudge aching limb or callus on the hand?
Father, grandfather stood upon this land,
And here the pilgrims from our loins will stand.”
So farmer and fisherman say
In their fortunate hey-day:
But Death’s low answer drifts across
Empty catch or harvest loss
Or an unlucky May.
The earth is an oyster with nothing inside it,
Not to be born is the best for man;
The end of toil is a bailiff’s order,
Throw down the mattock and dance while you can…
Who it’s for: The least interesting person you know; people who’ve looked into the void and come away smiling.
What it means: It’s so dark and cold, so, so dark and cold.
Further reading: “Aubade” by Philip Larkin
This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast, moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear – no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
Nothing to love or link with,
The anasthetic from which none come round. …
Who it’s for: Hateful, certainty-filled cretins; the second least interesting person you know; Buzzfeed editors.
What it means: Maybe being dead isn’t such a bad alternative after all.
Further reading: “A Death blow is a Life blow to Some” by Emily Dickinson
A Death blow is a Life blow to Some
Who till they died, did not alive become—
Who had they lived, had died but when
They died, Vitality begun.